


Summer Rain

by rememberednoah



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Adorable, Cute, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Rain, Summer, Summer Vacation, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rememberednoah/pseuds/rememberednoah
Summary: When he felt that there was enough distance between himself and the cottage, he threw his arms up to the sky. He tilted his head back and allowed the rain to run easily through his hair and drip down his face and neck. He smiled as he spun in circles with his eyes to the heavens. The thought of his mud-slick feet and soaking clothes could not have been further from his mind.ORIn which Patroclus and Achilles enjoy a rainy summer day.





	Summer Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the [Made of Memories zine](https://madeofmemories-zine.tumblr.com/)! I had lots of fun participating in that zine, and I'm glad it gave me the chance to write about these boys. The lovely Tere made [this beautiful piece of fanart](http://theshardsofmyheart.tumblr.com/post/182717937499/patroclus-liked-the-quiet-found-only-in-the-early) to go with this fic, and I cry about it to this day.

Patroclus liked the quiet found only in the early morning. It was the hush of a world left at ease. For the brief time he was awake before, seemingly, any other soul, he felt a sense of comfort. There was no worry over what his boyfriend's mother might say to him when she woke up. There was no worry over doing or saying the wrong thing. There was no worry over being anything less or more than who he was. He couldn’t help enjoying the peace of that time. 

It was often simple enough to remind himself that he was worthy; that, regardless of what Thetis said, Achilles would not leave him; that there was nothing wrong with him; that Achilles loved him. . . But it was nice to not have to remind himself at all. The simple pleasure of having no doubts slithering through his mind was pleasant. 

It was during this hush of the early morning that Patroclus made his way to the front porch of the cottage he was staying at with Achilles and his mom. They were staying there for a week. The forecast had said it would be warm and sunny, but the sky was covered in thick gray clouds that cast the woods around the cottage in gloom. 

A light rain began to fall, and Patroclus watched as the drops fell steadily and turned the dirt a dark brown. He remained transfixed by the transformation as the rain progressively fell harder. 

He took in a deep breath, and the scent of wet earth filled his lungs. It inexplicably made him want to stand under the spray of the rain. He turned to look behind him, at the cottage door he left ajar, and found that there was no movement from within. No one was awake to stop him. He could do as he pleased. 

As he once again focused his attention on the pouring rain, he smiled. There was a glint in his eyes as he dashed into the rain before he could second-guess his decision. The cold droplets did not hesitate before they slammed against him. He was dry one moment, and the next his clothes were stuck to his skin. His hands instinctively reached to cover his mouth as a laugh attempted to free itself from his body.

Before he could fail to keep his giddy joy in check, he made a run for the nearby trees. His feet were steady under him as he wove through the thicket of trees. He made sure not to let himself wander so far that he could not be found, but he kept his back firmly to the cottage. 

When he felt that there was enough distance between himself and the cottage, he threw his arms up to the sky. He tilted his head back and allowed the rain to run easily through his hair and drip down his face and neck. He smiled as he spun in circles with his eyes to the heavens. The thought of his mud-slick feet and soaking clothes could not have been further from his mind. 

Without warning, a body barreled into his. Strong and familiar arms wrapped around Patroclus' waist as his feet slipped on the wet ground due to the force of the impact. Patroclus didn't wait for the grip around him to reflexively tighten as his feet gained traction on the mud. Before Achilles could huff out even a breath of complaint, Patroclus broke free of his hold and spun on his heel to face him. 

"Bet you can't catch me!" He taunted. While he still had the upper hand, he broke into a run. It was all a bluff, from the very start, there wasn’t a world in which Achilles wouldn’t be able to catch up to him, but that was what made it fun. 

As his feet struggled to carry him faster than Achilles could chase him, Patroclus' laughter trailed behind him. The sound was nearly swallowed by the heavy rain, but wisps of it broke free of the torrent. He could hear Achilles' own laughter ringing clearly behind him. 

Fingers reached for a sliver of Patroclus' t-shirt, and he barked out a loud laugh as he managed a burst of speed that kept him out of grasp. He took a sharp turn, hoping for an even greater advantage, but his feet slid on the muddied ground. As he attempted to use the momentum to propel him forward instead of falling on his ass, he felt fingers ghost over the skin of his arm. 

"You'll have to try harder than that," he teased. He refused to be caught just yet. Achilles would have to work a little bit harder to get him. 

The smile on Patroclus' lips was smug as his eyes focused on his next plan of action. Climbing a tree was the perfect next step. 

With more confidence than he should have, Patroclus began scaling his tree of choice. His fingers dug harshly into the trunk of the tree as the moss-slick wood made it hard to climb. A hand wrapped around his ankle, both warm and unexpected, and his hold nearly faltered as he tried to kick it off. His arms ached from the effort of keeping him aloft and clinging to the wood, but they proved trustworthy as he finally managed to rid himself of the hand gripping him. Before Achilles could gain hold once more, Patroclus reached the branch he'd had in mind all along. 

"You think I can't get you there?" 

He ignored Achilles. Instead, he bellowed triumphantly as his feet made it onto the branch. He hardly felt the raindrops that pelted him even through the cover of leaves above him. He was enjoying the high of his victory too much to notice anything else. 

His gleeful laughter caught in his throat as the branch underneath his steady feet bent and then snapped. He didn't scream as he fell, but shock ran through him as his body collided with Achilles'. Together, they landed on a puddle of mud with a loud _splat_. 

Achilles tried his best to hold Patroclus in an iron grip, but Patroclus wasn't having it. He let out a war cry as he shoved against his boyfriend and tried to free himself. They were both too slippery with rain and mud to accomplish much of anything. Their limbs tangled messily as they both attempted to wrestle themselves into a position of dominance, but they weren't getting anywhere. 

The more Patroclus tried to break free, the more fiercely Achilles tried to hold on. Patroclus felt twigs snap under their weight as they rolled around on the ground, but it was nearly an afterthought. He didn't care that they were both getting covered in mud and grass and twigs and dirt. 

He was happy. He was laughing. He was _winning_. 

Patroclus knew the inevitable was fast approaching, and he didn't fight it. As Achilles went for the killing blow, catching Patroclus' lips in a kiss, Patroclus smiled. His fingers reached for familiar golden tresses, pulling on them to bring the other boy ever closer, and he laughed as Achilles eagerly followed and chased after his lips. 

He was _definitely_ winning.

As the thought ran through his mind, Achilles went on a different kind of attack. Before Patroclus knew what hit him, Achilles was tickling his sides. Patroclus was extremely susceptible to tickling. He couldn’t stop the laughter that came out of him in bursts as Achilles’ fingers expertly dug into his sides. He was damn near giggling, and it caused rain to fall into his open mouth. He didn’t care, though. He didn’t care at all. 

He reached for Achilles and brought him in close for another kiss even as his need to laugh made it difficult to stay on task. His laughing fit couldn't keep him from savoring the warmth and taste of his boyfriend's mouth, though, as the blonde gave up on the tickling for a moment. Patroclus spent too many hours of his day _thinking_ about kissing Achilles to not revel in the pleasure of when he actually was. 

"I've won," Achilles said, trailing kisses down his neck. Patroclus wasn't stupid. As the words left his boyfriend's mouth, his hands grabbed for the blonde's wrists as he tried to go in for another tickle attack. 

"Really? Are you sure?" Patroclus asked, nibbling at Achilles' lips. When he heard the golden-haired boy take in a ragged breath, he took his chance. He kneed his boyfriend in the stomach and flipped him onto his back. 

"I'm not done running yet," he murmured. He made sure his lips brushed against Achilles' as he spoke, and, then, he ran. 

Patroclus knew this was a fight he could not win. He'd pushed at Achilles' competitive streak, and it had finally snapped. He could tell by the steady pattern of Achilles' feet splashing on the muddied ground that he wouldn't be able to keep up with the blonde much longer. Achilles was bound to catch him, and there was nothing Patroclus could do to stop it. He craved the inevitability of those arms wrapped around him again in capture. 

Just when his eyes settled on the cottage, the view of the building no longer obstructed by trees, Achilles reached him without mercy. He barreled into Patroclus with the ferocity of someone who refused to be thwarted again. His strong arms wrapped around Patroclus' waist and held him tight. 

As if to guarantee his undoubtable success, Achilles nuzzled Patroclus' neck with obvious glee. He strengthened the efficacy of his attack by peppering kisses against his dark skin. Patroclus could hardly contain the giggles that wanted to erupt from his throat. The way his boyfriend's lips tickled against his skin like phantom butterfly wings left him shivering and desperate for a laugh. 

"Do you surrender?" Achilles murmured, a smile hidden within his words. 

Patroclus knew exactly how to answer the question. He spun around within the circle of Achilles' arms and threw his own arms around the golden-haired boy's neck. He kissed him like he knew he would be kissed back. His heart thrummed happily in his chest as Achilles' lips moved against his. When he felt Achilles' hands on the bare skin of his still wet back, he couldn't avoid the way a small gasp escaped him. His breaths came in harsh and fast as Achilles’ tongue slipped into his mouth. He felt his skin warm with pleasure even as the cold rain continued to pour down them both.

He felt his breaths stutter as the blonde sought one of his hands and linked their fingers together. Before he could demand more, for more of their skin to touch, for more of their hearts beating rapidly against each other, Achilles drew away. The immediate complaint on Patroclus' tongue was swallowed down as he noted the tender smile on Achilles' face. 

Their foreheads still touched as his boyfriend's eyes flickered to something behind him. Patroclus couldn't help how his instincts made him turn around, so he could catch sight of what Achilles saw. 

Thetis stood on the cottage's front porch. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest as she watched the pair of them. Her dark hair curled subtly around her as if persuaded into movement by the chill of the rain. Her eyes were dark pools of carefully crafted indifference, but the twist to her lips spoke more of resigned annoyance than anger. Patroclus' heart beat erratically upon seeing her. There was a thread of fear running through his spine as he considered what she might say at having caught them. 

"I don't know where you two plan to spend your time today because you sure as hell will not be tracking in all that mud into my cottage. I'll have both your asses if I catch you anywhere near the bathroom. I see so much as a _speck_ of mud in this house, and you will regret it." The words were a perfectly manufactured threat, but they lacked just the smallest fraction of an edge to them. 

Patroclus found no reason to smile, but he could sense the way Achilles' lips turned up in a grin. His heart thundered ever faster as he waited for what reaction his boyfriend's sure to come reply would elicit. 

"You can hose us down when the rain stops. It'll be fun for you. I promise! By the time you're done with us, we'll be good as new." Patroclus stole a quick glance at Achilles. His boyfriend looked like the perfect golden son everyone expected him to be. It should truly, then, have come as no surprise how his mother responded. 

Thetis pursed her lips, but there was a reluctant spark of mirth in her eyes that Patroclus was sure he imagined. Achilles’ hold on his hand tightened, like he could tell victory was imminent, and Patroclus held his breath as he waited for her verdict. 

There was nothing to fear. 

Thetis waved her hand in dismissal. She had her back half-turned to them as she said, "Run along now. But I expect you both to be back here when the rain stops! Don't make me wait!" 

"Of course, Mother!" Achilles was beaming. A blush spread across Patroclus' cheeks as the blonde kissed him without preamble. 

Sure, Patroclus liked the peace found only in the quiet of the early morning, but he loved the joy of being with Achilles more.


End file.
